


Dead trees give no shelter

by Barkingmad



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Action, Androids, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Season 2, Winter, non-graphic, thought I would warn ya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1305781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barkingmad/pseuds/Barkingmad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is struggling. Suspended from the job with medical leave, he has 1 month to get his act together. But something else is brewing in the city- Insyndicate are back and deadlier than ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No shade for the sunken stones

**Author's Note:**

> Rating for language, violence and drug abuse in later chapters.

_Breathe_

_In and out In and out_

Too much noise. Thoughts too loud. People talking, laughing, music blaring. A pain in his chest coiled tight around his heart, heavy and cold.

_Raise the bottle to your lips_

_And hold it close to your heart_

He digs out his bit from his jean pocket and taps it against the metal counter, and another drink is placed in front of him.

_Drink. Swallow._

_The nightmaresheartbreakbetrayelconfusion_

_Swallow it all and wash it away_

He stumbles into the night and the rain reaches through the haze to run cold fingers down his cheek. Neon lights flicker yellow and red over shop windows, like a cheap imitation of the stars against the gloomy sky.

He stumbles further down the grimy street. Unlike the more modern parts of town, the road here is cobbled and he stumbles over protruding rocks, spitting curses at them under his breath. A hand on his shoulder; he turns unsteadily about to protest but a finger is pressed against his lips. _Keep quiet_. He vaguely recognizes the dark eyes peering out at him under a hood dripping with rain. Crooked teeth jut through pale lips and the man smiles, beckoning to him with a gloved hand. He pulls up the collar of his coat as he is led down an alley way, his vision swimming and his head thick with fog, but he manages to keep putting one foot in front of the other. The rain is coming down in sheets now, drilling ice beneath his skin. It looks filthy even before it hits the ground, rotten wood and rusted iron illuminated through each droplet, dragging the water down into the dust with it. Even the wind, sending leaves skittering into the gutter, seems plagued with something unclean.

_Each step is an effort; the marrow of his bones replaced by heavy weights_

_Not long now_

Everything’s blurred and the world tips sickeningly. The road spins before his eyes, twisting up into the sky before lurching downwards. A grim smile tugs the corner of his lips up into a giddy smirk.  
  
In the shadow of Koln avenue district, a decision is made. 

_Not long to go_

 

* * *

~***~

* * *

 

 

The precinct doors slid open with a hiss as Detective Kennex strode in. Tension chiselled his jaw into a hard line; his face set with determination. His DRN walked quietly at his shoulder, eyes focused on something unseen and blue electric light dancing up the side of his face. Occasionally, those eyes would glance worriedly over to his partner, the emotion in them almost too real for artificial intelligence.

To be perfectly honest, Dorian was worried; worried about John, and more than usual. The android was very conscious about keeping his emotions in check; the threat of decommission always there, looming in the back of his mind, and all it would take is one slip up on his part and that threat would become very real. However when It came to John, he couldn’t quite hide his concern. As Johns partner, he had direct link to all electrical devices in his house. John’s smart-bed told him that the man was only getting 4 good hours of sleep per night, and it was starting to show. Although Dorian never commented, (it would send John into a rage), but he made sure to catalogue his every happening and store it in his memory. He ran through his files; this week alone John had 9 flash backs, 3 petit mal seizures, 10 cans of beer, 8 glasses of whisky and 7 nightmares that made him wake, yelling out. He wasn’t even going to start on how many Membliss pills he had popped. Nor how many times John had snapped at him, or he’d got that distant look in his eyes and his hands would clench into fists, or his eyes screwed shut and he would bite down on his lip or… Dorian sighed. It was no use worrying. All he could do was his job, and remember the words that Maldonado whispered to him. _Keep an eye on him, Dorian._ He didn’t need reminding.

“We have a lead.” The captain’s heels clicked loudly on the hard floor as she appeared from the investigation division, walking quickly towards the pair. She flinched inwardly, glancing over Kennex. It didn’t take an android to see that John was suffering. With a quick shake of her head she came to a decision; that would have to wait until later. Now, they had a black market dealer to catch.

The captain led them into her office, pulling up the holographic case file with a swipe of her hand. “Tobias Millburn: 36 years old, ex-army medic and infamous contraband dealer. 7 months ago he escaped custody, but we have received an anonymous tip of a sighting of him near the warehouses in Koln district.”

John stepped forward, flicking through the details hovering in the air with calculating eyes before flexing his hand and expanding the man’s image. He sucked in a breath, hands tensing at his side.

“John? You alright man?”

“I’m fine”

“You sure? Your heart rate has increased rapidly and-”

“I said I’m _fine._ Shut it”

He wasn’t fine.  
His heart was racing, and panic was gnawing at his insides, climbing unchecked up into his throat, choking him. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to refocus. Maldonado flicked her hand again she bought up a different image; A phial containing a small circular pill, red and chalky looking.

“Paxoriphene, or Pax for short, a relatively new drug in the black market, but especially dangerous. An opiate that targets specific clusters of memory synapses in the brain, deadening them for a period of time and replacing the nerve endings with extracts from sleep inducing plants like valerian, as well as hallucinogenic compounds only found over the wall. Side effects include fever, shakiness, lost time, disassociation, coma and even death. To top it off, it's molecules are barely traceable on breath, so it's extra hard to catch.”

John cleared his throat. “Why… Why would people buy it?”

Dorian’s face lit up blue _fucking disco lights_. “If I’m correct, by looking at the ingredients, it seems to be some kind of reality depreciator, numbing real memories and replacing or improving them with ones which trigger high levels of dopamine and serotonin”

“Alright, C3PO”

Dorian tilted his head, “Star wars references?”

“You bet your carbon fibre ass star wars references” John huffed, dead pan.

The captain continued, unamused, “I want you to start getting your team together, I’m sending Dorian the coordinates for Millburn’s location now.”

John folded his arms, “But what are Insyndicate starting up again now? What’s their end game?”

Dorian placed a sturdy hand on his shoulder, “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night big guy” Kennex chuckled meeting the droids eyes. Dorian knew John wasn’t good with ‘touchy feely stuff’, as he had so eloquently put it, but the DRN had been his partner long enough to appreciate this stunted form of thanks.

A hot dread crept up John’s spine, but if Dorian noticed he didn’t comment. Instead he grinned, clapping his partner on the back. “Let’s go get ‘em”


	2. No peace for the damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Dorian set out to catch their dealer; however it's never that simple, is it?  
> A lot of dialogue in this chapter, sorry about that...

“Thinkin’ of the waaaaaay”

“Dorian-”

“That the wind can turn the tide”

“-Seriously-“

“Aaaand these shadows turn”

“Can you please not-”

“From purple into greeeeeey”

“Oh my god shut up” John punched the radio off and scowled at his partner.

“Come on man, I thought you liked Elton John”

“I do, but not when you sing along to it” Kennex muttered with a roll of his eyes.

Dorian shifted to face him, “I’m just trying to cheer you up; you’ve been acting odd all day.” The androids face lit up as an idea hit him, “If you don’t like singing I can-”

“How about silent mode; that would cheer me up. Could you manage that?” the detective snapped. He winced at his backhand comment, immediately regretting his harsh tone. Dorian shrunk back into his seat, downcast, but continued to hum softly to himself.

_Synthetic fail, calibration required. Synthetic fail, calibration required_.

John gritted his teeth in pain as the circuit of neurons in his leg jammed. It felt like electric shocks whizzing through his veins and into his thigh, but he kept his eyes focused on the road and gripped the steering wheel tighter. Dorian opened his mouth to comment, but thought better of it and just shook his head with a sigh.

 

* * *

 ~***~

* * *

 

Eventually the tyres crunched against loose asphalt, signalling their entry to the sketchier parts of town. Abandoned industrial factories towered up into the sky, looming over clusters of houses that huddled together like frightened children. Dorian gave a low whistle, craning his neck to look up at the vast building complex. The wide windows stared out of the brick work like watchful eyes, and if Dorian had been human he probably would have shivered. “Didn’t know these places were still standing”

“This section of the city is famous for housing escapee criminals.” John glanced anxiously over at Dorian, “We are not welcome here. Keep your wits about you.”

He spun the wheel, turning the car down onto a back street.

The intercom crackled and the Captains voice came over the line, “Kennex, do you copy?”

“Ready and waiting Cap.” John smirked, he could almost hear the eye roll from the end of the line.

“Better to be stealthed from here on out: we don’t want them to see us and bolt. I need you to scope the place out; our thermal transmitters seemed to be blocked by something so we can’t get a reading. Wait for the rest of the team to get there before entering. They’re on their way, but…” She sighed heavily,” We just don’t know what to expect.”

“Rodger that” With a flick of a button on the roof, the cars outer paint seemed to melt away, and a substance like quicksilver raced across its surface through hair line wires in the chassis, slowly hardening and spreading out into reflective panels. Finally the car’s engine softened from a dull rumble to a barely audible hum. The car was a predator creeping through the empty street, streamlined and keeping low to the ground. But the detective couldn’t but help feel like prey, and his skin crawled. Even in stealth mode, the car was the loudest thing for miles around. _Surely people would be out in the day, even in this criminal crap heap._

Dorian frowned, his face lighting up electric blue. “Pull up here, I detect a heat signature on the north side” They parked the car out of view behind a dumpster, and John grimaced at the loud squeak the door hinge made as he climbed out. Dorian’s hand shot to his gun holster and the pair tensed for resistance…When none came, they continued towards the north factory, sticking to the wall.

John tried to steady his breathing. His heart was thrumming in his chest like hummingbird wings, and sweat was starting to break out along his brow line. _I’m just hot in all this get up, that’s all_.

Memories flashed behind his eyes, threatening to explode before him. In the back of Johns mind, doubt wriggled its way past reason and constricted around his throat. _Isn’t this so very similar? We’ve been here before with Pelham. It starts off so quiet. Too quiet. Knees bent eyes wet muscles tense. Even the wind holds its breath. Then the gun fire starts…_

“John!”

He jerked out of his trance and glanced around for his partner.

“Get over here!”

He whipped out his gun; arms extended holding it out in front of him. Swallowing the fear, John manoeuvred into a crouch and peered round the corner. His pulse raced, Dorian was hunched over and worryingly still.

_No no no no no_

“Dorian!” John yelled out, kneeling down next to his partner and scanning him over for signs of injury.

_Not hurt_

A cool wave of relief washed over him. Dorian looked up, smiling thinly seeing John’s distress. “I’m okay John, but our friendly neighborhood dealer… not so much”

The detective frowned, looking to where Dorian pointed.

“Oh god”

A man was sat propped up awkwardly against the wall, blood dripping out the side of his mouth. His eyes were wide and glazed with pain, his breathing shallow.

“Isn’t that-”

“-Tobias Millburn? Yeah it is… But what happened to him.  What’s he doing here _dying_ ”

The side of Dorian’s face lit up as he rattled off a diagnosis, “Stab wound to the lower abdomen, major blood loss, heart rate low and dropping. John, we’ve got to radio this in.”

John raised an eyebrow, seeing his partner ripping off a strip of his under shirt before forcing it into John’s hands.

“Apply pressure to the wound; we need him alive for questioning” The DRN stood up, walking away a few paces before pressing the small button on his jacket, connecting him to the station.

“Captain, it’s me. We’ve scoped the perimeter and we found our guy, but we need an ambulance.”

“You fellows alright?” Maldonado’s voice came through the tiny speaker, edged with barely disguised concern.

“Yeah, it’s Millburn. He’s been stabbed, but by whom we don’t know. We can …”

Dorian’s voice got fainter as he paced further away, talking over the com. John shuffled closer to the man, gritting his teeth as he pushed the white cotton against the man’s wound whilst trying to avoid looking him in the eyes.

 

_Dark eyes peering out at him under a hood dripping with rain_

  
  
Millburn sucked in a wheezing breath, his voice was wet and gurgled in his throat. “Hello again, John."

Kennex glowered, "Shut up."

"Really pal? After all I've done for you..."

"I. Said. Shut it."

_So incredibly annoying for someone who has just been stabbed,_ John thought bitterly.

The dealer smirked. "Fun fact of the day-in Latin ‘Pax’ means ‘peace’." He sighed, looking down at the ground. I needed the money. Hell, when they made me sell it I thought I’d be doing people a favour…” Angrily he spat out a glob of blood.

Dorian appeared at his side. “The team is only a few minutes out, the med unit is with them. Maldonado said to keep her updated”

John ignored him, his chest tightening. “You were made to sell it? Who made you?”

The man laughed weakly, teeth smeared in red. “I aint telling you, I’ll be dead meat.”

With a growl Kennex grabbed the man’s coat collar, “If you haven’t noticed, _pal_ , you’re pretty close to being dead meat anyway. We can offer you protection, but not unless you tell us, so I suggest you start speaking or you’re going to need more than a few stitches.”

“John, stand down! We need this guy alive.” Dorian put a hand on the detectives shoulder, but he shook it off.

“Who was it!” His face was inches from the other man, his hand curling into a fist. But Millburn just stared back at his with those dark deep set eyes, and that bloody smile.

 

C _rooked teeth jut through pale lips_

 

He increased the pressure on the man’s wound until he gasped in pain, struggling under his hand.

“Who. Was. It!”

“Stop… stop it” Millburn wheezed, face clammy and eyelids drooping.

Dorian was shouting now, “John, enough!”

With a grunt he pulled away, and the man sucked in a shallow breath and coughed, saliva and blood spattering the pavement. He panted, staring daggers at the pair before seeming to come to a decision.

“I was in Koln district, doing my thing. Then there were these men… they came at me...knocked me over the ‘ead. When I woke up there… there was a woman. She never told me her name, all she said was that… I needed to sell the drug to as many different people as I could or… she’d kill me.”

John frowned, “Who did this woman work for?”

He took a deep breath, staring blankly down at the wound in his side, “She worked for Insyndicate”

John snarled, seeing red.

“The woman… she said to sell to as many people as I could. Well, I did as she said; White people, black, the sick, healthy, nurses, business men, mechanics-.” He suddenly looked up, staring at John with a lopsided smile.

“And even cops.”

Dorian glanced over to his partner worriedly, eyes widening in realisation. In the distance, the whine of sirens could be heard getting closer.

The man smirked. “You haven’t told them have you”

John froze, jaw clenched. “I don’t know what the hell you’re on abou-”

“John is this true?”

John ignored the DRN, instead he leant forward, grabbing Millburn by the collar again, “If you did what she said, why are you here bleeding out?”

The man gave a desperate laugh, “The woman... after a few months she approached me in the alley, I thought she was there to pay me but then...” He coughed, wincing in pain. Blood was spreading over the strip off cotton like spilt ink seeping over paper.

“But her thugs dragged me to this dump and… She said… she said I was bait.”

Sirens wailed around the corner, blue and red lights flashing.

“Bait? Bait for who?”

Millburn swallowed thickly, eyes meeting John’s. “You.” Finally he breathed out, slumping to the side; Lifeless.

Dorian stepped forward protectively, pulling John back with a strong arm. “We gotta go, now!”

Once again he tapped the small button on his jacket, “Captain! Get everyone back, it’s a set up! It’s Insyndicate, they’re behind this, they caught Millburn and used him as bait. We have to-”

 

 

That’s when the first bomb exploded, and the com went dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is still reading this, thank you so much! As always, feedback is really appreciated!


	3. Heaven heal these bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is forced to deal with the consequences of his decisions.

_He’s laughing; properly laughing. And it’s such a foreign sound to his ears. Sweat sticks to his forehead and the sun burns brightly even for summer. A June breeze sweeps through the trees in a gentle rush and heat haze rises up from the hot tarmac-_

-flames roar and smoky tendrils billow into the sky. Dorian half drags, half carries his partner away from the blast, dodging fire and bullets. John’s eyes are rolled back, blood streaming down his side.

_The safety bar is clamped down over his front and, with a jerk, the cart starts up. The people shrink smaller beneath him as the rollercoaster click-a-clacks noisily up the slope-_

-gunfire ricochets overhead and machine guns _rat-a-tat tat_ out a deadly rhythm. Dorian fires off a few shots of his own, before bending down and smacking him across the cheek, “Wake up right now man, I need a little help here”. Another explosion shakes the ground, and Dorian shields John with his body. Blue ooze seeps through dents and scorch marks in his skin, and his circuits crackle, close to falling apart.

“We’ll be okay… it’s okay I’m going to get us out of here…”

_His stomach turns as they ascend higher up the track. A warm hand caresses his cheek, soothing his racing heart. Anna’s laugh is soft and musical, like water running over pebbles. She smiles, kissing him gently on the side of his face, “it’s okay John, I’m with you.” The wheels whiz across the line and her eyes are brown and warm, her face bathed in light.  
But the sun is burning too hot now, and he panics, struggling with the iron bar in front of him. He struggles; but he’s trapped; pinned down as his skin is set aflame. In the back of his mind, someone is screaming; it grows louder, vibrating in his skull. The sun shakes in the sky, growing bigger, burning hotter, scorching-_

Somewhere far off, someone shouts. “Grenade, get down!”

_-and it explodes behind him into shrapnel, ripping apart the horizon into a black and broken nightfall._

Rough tarmac against his cheek, he’s on the ground. A face hovers above him, blurred and out of focus.

_Anna?_

“Come on man, we gotta go!”

_Dorian_

His lips are moving but he can’t make out a word they are saying. There’s a ringing in his ears that burns through his skull, and grey seeps into his vision.

_The world is still; too dark, too silent._

He wonders when even the moon went out. Then even the darkness leaves, and he’s left with nothing.

 

* * *

 ~***~

* * *

   
The first thing John noticed was the incessant beeping. It tugged at his unconsciousness, pulling him out of the warm embrace of sleep. There was an overpowering smell of _clean_ , and he frowned, trying to shift away from the unpleasant smell. When it remained, he tried to lift his heavy eyelids; but immediately snapped them shut again. Everything was so blindingly _white_. After a moment, he tried opening them again, slower this time, letting everything blur back into focus, and the whiteness recede into…

_A hospital room. Fuck._

Tentatively, he checked himself over for injury. All three limbs were intact (although his prosthetic has been removed), eyes were working, lungs fully functional, and he was still thinking in full sentences, so he concluded his brain was still alright. He pulled himself upright, but immediately fell back down onto the bed with a yelp.

Pain shot up his side. He winced, looking down to the bandaged area above his hip. Memories came back bit by bit, filling in the puzzle of _what the hell happened_. He growled, realizing Insyndicate had got away again, and they had something deadly brewing in the wings…

“Oh good, you’re alive”

John spun around at Dorian’s voice, and his head pounded in protest. He pulled the bed covers up around him, face flushing red; he was suddenly conscious that he was in bed wearing naught but a thin hospital gown.  
  
“Go away Dorian”. At least that’s what he meant to say, but it came out more like “Gwaay D’ran”. He realised just how dry his throat was, and reached for the glass of water next to him and took a long gulp, then smacking his lips, he set it back down.

Light streamed in through the curtains, and he scrunched his face up, squinting against the morning sun to look around the room. Dorian stood straight and tall, hands behind his back and expression steely.

“Dorian?”

John frowned when there was no response from the android. “You okay?”  
Dorian’s face was set, and those usually soft brown eyes were hard and etched with something akin to pain. Stretches of synthetic bandage patched up sections of his face and arms, and his chest plate had been replaced.

He didn’t answer, instead pulled some clothes from a drawer and placed them on the bed.

“If you can, I advise you get dressed. Maldonado wants to talk to you. ”

John cursed under his breath and glared at the DRN. “Well, hope you’re fucking happy now, telling on me like that.”

In three quick strides, Dorian’s face was in Johns. “I had to, John. You gave me no choice. My job is to look out for you, and you are going down a slippery slope. Man I know you got it tough, I do, and I only want to help. But this is a whole new low for you. I let you get drunk, I don’t mind it when you snap at me, I even keep quiet about the Membliss” John shuffled uncomfortably, but rolled his eyes trying to hold on to any scrap of dignity he had left. “But this?” Dorian held up a small glass vial filled with pale red pills. “This is too far John. If things get bad, you’re supposed to talk to me man, I’m your partner.” Then quieter he muttered “I only want to help. It’s my job.”

John snorted, “What, as a glorified tattle tale tin can?”

“As your friend.”

Silence fell thick, filling up the air between them with words unspoken.

“I guess… I guess I should acknowledge that you saved my life back there."

The beginnings of a smile twitched Dorian's lips, "You're welcome"

John was quickly frowning again, "I’m still pissed at you though.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

John felt a sharp pang of guilt. Dorian’s disappointed look stirred up a greater feeling of shame than anyone else could have placed in him. However, one of John’s skills was covering up hurt and replacing it with a steely exterior of sarcasm and attitude. So he gathered the guilt up, then buried it deep inside his heart and surrounded it with barbed fencing and planned to never touch it again. He was very good at it; after all, he had been practicing for a long time.

After a while, John shook his head, teeth gritted in frustration. “Listen, I don’t have to answer to you”. He swung his legs over the bed, turning his back on Dorian and shuffling over to his leg on the charging stand. With a twist and a hiss it connected, and he winced as the synthetic neurons came to life.

“No, I guess you don’t. But you will have to answer to the Captain.”

John leaned against the blank wall, staring out the window.

_Breath_

_In and out In and out_

Eventually Dorian sighed and stepped closer, eyes softening slightly. “I get the Membliss man, I do; you want to remember the things that were stolen from you. You want revenge. But this… this is more harm than good. I can’t let you do this to yourself.”

John turned, his face contorted, “I had to! I was going undercover for information and...and it needed to be convincing okay? I had to…” As he muttered the last part to himself, Dorian couldn’t help but think John was trying to justify it to himself more than him.

“Yeah maybe you had to, but it wasn't because some black market dealer was forcing you into it"

The detective clenched his hands into fists, resisting the urge to punch his partner in his synthetic face.

Blue light danced up the side of Dorian’s brow. “Maldonado will be here in five, get dressed.” With a shake of his head, he walked out and shut the door quietly behind him.

 

* * *

 ~***~

* * *

   
“Did you not hear me when I read out the side effects? Would you like me to repeat them?”

“You don’t need to-”  
  
“Fever, lost time, disassociation, memory loss, coma and _death_ ” An awkward pause came between them, as the finality of the word hung dangerously in the air.

Kennex and the Captain sat opposite each other in the hospital lobby. Nurses and patients bustled past, and medical trollies rattled noisily across the rubber floor. John shuffled in his chair. It was a standard issue ‘we need to save all the money we can’ hospital chair; scratchy and uncomfortable. However John’s main source of discomfort came from Sandra’s concerned scowl.

He leant forward on his knees, “Like I told Dorian, I was going undercover for information on Insyndicate-”

“There is no way to justify your actions, John.”

The detective looked down, shame once again coiling around his gut. Suddenly he looked up, frowning. “When Dorian and I found Millburn, he said he was bait. Not for the troops or the bots, but for me. Why?”

Sandra’s voice softened, “I don’t know, but we are trying our best to uncover this whole thing.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, seeming to come to a decision. “I’m afraid the only way for the drugs not to go on the record is for you to take some time off.”

If anyone else had suggested this, John probably would have flipped a table, except this was the Captain, and she held his utmost respect. But panic swelled in his chest. _No, he couldn’t just abandon everyone here, not when they were dangers to protect people from, leads to follow…_

So instead he just flipped his chair.

“I can’t leave now! Insyndicate are up to something, and I need to be here-”

“Sit your ass down, Kennex. This is non-debatable.”

Fuming, he righted his chair and sunk into it with a ‘humph’.

“You should be grateful I’m not kicking you out for good”. Maldonado twisted the silver ring on her finger, “The truth is… well, we need you.” They both smiled; ever so softly it was hardly visible, sharing in a brief moment of companionship. But it vanished in an instance as Maldonado frowned, “But we need you alive. So you are going to take 1 month off to sort yourself out.”

John turned his head in defeat, focusing on a couple on the other side of the room. They were sitting close together; the man’s head leant on the woman’s shoulder, arms around her waist. She was weeping softly into his jacket, sobs racking her body, the man’s eyes were red and he rubbed comforting circles on her back. They clung to each other tightly, and John looked away, not wanting to think about what could have made those two people so sad.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Fine, fine. I’ll do it.”

Sandra stood up, smoothing out her suit. “It’s settled then.” She hesitated before leaving, putting a hand on John’s shoulder. “Take care of yourself John. That’s an order”.

“Hey, I thought I couldn’t take orders at the moment, being off work and all” The detective grinned.

Sandra rolled her eyes, a smile of her own lifting her face. She dipped her head in farewell, and strode out through the glass doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, all mistakes are mine.  
> Ugh sorry this is so late and short and crap. As always, thanks for reading x


	4. Chapter 4

 

John had never been a patient man, and he wasn’t about to change now. He tapped his foot, leaning against his doorframe as MXs poured in an out, up righting furniture and sifting through his belongings. They then turned their attention to his cabinets in his back room, and John couldn’t help but feel invaded as they rifled through his past achievements, picking them apart and scrutinizing them. One of his trophy’s fell to the floor with a dull ‘clunk’, and if looks could kill, that particular MX would have been vaporized where it stood.

“Hey watch it, dummy!” He clenched his fists, about to stride over, but a hand on his shoulder pulled him back. He didn’t even need to hear the “Take it easy man” to know it was Dorian; what other android did he know that would make such a human gesture?

He turned to scowl at him, “They better be done soon, because they are leaving my apartment one way or another”, his hand twitched towards his gun in its holster.

To his surprise and slight irritation, Dorian cracked a smile. “Have you always been this cute and cuddly?”

“No, this is the result of putting up with these guys”, he gestured to the half dozen bots in his house, “day in day out.”

Dorian frowned “John, you’ll-”

“I’ll what? Hurt their feelings?” He snorted, shrugging off the hand and stepping down the porch stairs into the street… that is before his way was blocked by an all too solid body.

“Until the house has been fully checked and cleared of the substance Paxoriphene, you cannot leave your premises. I have to upkeep protocol” the MX droned in its flat voice.

“So, what I’m under house arrest now?!” Kennex spluttered. He could already feel himself becoming claustrophobic at the thought of spending so much time cramped in his apartment. He was a man of _action_ , and just sitting at home left far too much time to think.

The DRN had been hovering in the background, and suddenly his voice in Kennex’s ear made him jump.

“John, you have a call.”

“Gimme a minute” he snapped, but the voice persisted.

“John, it’s the Captain.”

With a lot of grumbling, he stomped his way back up the stairs and into the main room where the pixelated image of Maldonado’s face appeared over the com. She looked collected and professional as ever, but the dark circles under her eyes showed that stress at the office was boiling over.

“John, good you’re here.” She jumped straight to the point, eager not to lose any more time. “Listen, for the duration of your extended leave I would like you out of the bureau’s hair. That means no interfering with internal affairs and no getting involved with cases.”

John opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off, “Kennex, you are lucky I am being so lenient with you. Take this opportunity to sort yourself out and get some rest.” Her face disappeared for a few seconds as she grabbed something from her desk and returned, shuffling some papers. “I’ve organised you to spend some time in one of our nature zones on the perimeter of the wall. It’ll be marked off as medical leave, so you don’t need to worry about getting heat from the guys”

The detective spoke with forced politeness. “Captain, as much as I appreciate you letting me keep my job, I _need_ to be in the loop. I can’t be dealing with personal crap when dispatch has called in a case we _know_ have Insyndicate behind it!”

Something flittered across Maldonado’s face, too quickly for John to pin down before she schooled it into a frown, but it looked something akin to… _Sadness? Concern?_ “Revenge doesn’t look good on you, John.” She murmured.

But then her face lightened up slightly, and if John didn’t know any better, he would almost say she looked a little brash. “Oh, and John? When you go, you will be taking Dorian with you.”

“Wait, what-”

But before he could say anything more on the matter, the com disconnected with a final beep, and he was left staring at the blank wall.

* * *

~***~

* * *

 The sun peaked over the skyline and the first pale rays of dawn brought a strong wind. The waves surged through the inlet making the small boats rear; knocking against the harbour and straining on their moorings. Through his wide apartment windows, the keening of gulls pulled John away from sleep and with tremendous effort he half opened his eyelids. It was only a few hours ago he had managed to shut them; images of smoke and gunfire were flashing through his mind all night, sparking like a faulty wire whenever he managed to relax. But now the morning light streamed in over the bed sheets, caressing him in heavy warmth that made it more and more of an effort to stay awake the longer he lay there. For a few minutes he revelled in the peace, just hovering on the edges of sleep…

…if only he wasn’t so exhausted.

He realised he must have nodded off again when the shrill beeping of his alarm wrenched him wide awake. He groaned, burying his head further into the pillow and waving his arm at it in a half-hearted attempt to shut the damn thing off. The cheap plastic of the alarm and his elbow collided and he winced, expecting to hear the crash of it breaking apart on the hard floor. When it didn’t come, he turned his head pushing the pillow to the side…

Later, John would deny yelping with a high pitch voice. He would also say he never jumped out of his skin in fright, nor did he fall off the bed and onto the floor, and he most _definitely_ didn’t land on his arse with an undignified ‘thump’.

“Good morning, John” Dorian’s face blurrily came into view; he was smiling innocently, holding the alarm in his right hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

“What the fuck Dorian!” John gripped the mattress, using it to pull himself from the floor and hobble onto one foot. “How did you get in here… when did… why…” John’s face was slowly turning a deeper shade of red, out of embarrassment or anger he couldn’t quite tell yet, because firstly, _you do not surprise someone like that it’s just rude_ and second of all, he was standing in front of his partner scantily dressed. Yet again.

“To answer your questions” Dorian replied, calmly placing the coffee down on the desk. “As to how I got in, I have an override security code for your front door. When, about two minutes ago. Why, because we are leaving in an hour and Maldonado asked me to keep an eye on you.”

The detective scrambled upright, practically seething. “You don’t just barge into someone’s house, especially- _especially_ not first thing in the morning and make them almost piss their pants in fright! And what if I’d had someone over last night huh? We could have been… busy!”

Dorian simply gave him an amused look, the corner of his lip curling up as he tried not to laugh.

“Oi don’t give me that, it’s entirely possible!”

Dorian raised an eyebrow but left the matter alone, strolling into the kitchen and started clattering around. “Come on get up, I’m making breakfast”

John ‘humphed’, snagging the shirt that hung over his chair and yanked it over his head before hobbling over to the electric stand, disconnecting the synthetic limb and attaching it with a click and a twist that made him grit his teeth. He collapsed back onto the bed, listening to Dorian hum to himself as he pottered about looking (and failing John guessed) to find anything substantial. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as the initial anger faded-he was just too tired to stay mad for long.

He came into the kitchen five minutes later, sporting an impressive bed head but otherwise decent. No sooner as he walked in, he took a sudden step back wrinkling his nose and holding a hand over his mouth at burning smell. It didn’t take long to find the source- a stacked plate of thick pancakes sat on the table, drizzled in syrup and still steaming straight from the pan. This would be alright, ten times than his standard pot noodles better in fact, apart from the only problem that they were _charred to a crisp_. He figured by now nothing should surprise him. He figured wrong.

John found the culprit with a tea towel slung over his shoulder and rummaging in a cupboard looking for…plates? He coughed, trying to get the DRNs attention.

“Dorian?” He asked, a little louder. “Dorian!”

He finally pulled his head out the cupboard and grinned, “John! Look I made pancakes!”

John squinted, not sure whether to bite his tongue because _it is too early for this bullshit_ or say something and risk being given a lecture. Curiosity forced his hand, and he went with the latter.

“Dorian…Those are not pancakes.”

“Sure they are”

“Yes, yes those are pancakes, like how the sky is pink, I’m good with children, you’re Santa Clause, and ashes are edible.”  
  
Dorian pouted, “Hey, it’s not my fault they aren’t exactly perfect-”

Kennex scoffed.

“-you have nothing in your fridge but beer, instant noodles and something I’m pretty sure is growing mould. What am I supposed to do with that?”  
  
“No one asked you to make breakfast; I’m a big boy I can take care of myself.” He snapped, and immediately felt bad; Dorian’s shoulders stiffened and he assumed that blank unreadable expression that meant he was either annoyed or upset. John knew Dorian was just trying to help but he was too _tired_. There was a constant itch just under his skin, the world was too bright and sharp and the ringing in his ears was not helping. He pushed past Dorian into the living room and collapsed on the sofa, reaching for the coffee still sat on the desk. It was still too hot to drink, but just having something to do with his hands was comfort enough. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but for all his moaning he liked Dorian’s bubbling enthusiasm and curiosity, so being blanked by him was a little unsettling.

He imagined the ridicule he would have to endure when he returned to the precinct. Not that he cared what anyone thought per se but he wasn’t stupid, he noticed the way people at work looked at him; with contempt on the good days, pity on the worst, like he was a ticking time bomb set to self-destruct. Needing to be handled carefully. Contained. It was embarrassing to be looked after, he had his habits, his rules and he damn well stuck to them. He would rather mess up completely and entirely on his own terms than let himself go, even for the tiniest possibility of _hey, things could be better like this_. It was too risky.

However with the appearance of Dorian not too long ago, he had been forced to… not give it up, _no never that_ , but expand it slightly; fitting it around the part of life his partner had set up residence. . _‘He seems to be doing that a lot these days’_ he mused to himself. He thought about the upcoming weeks where they would be eating, living, working and simply _co-existing_ in the same space and he felt his stomach do a little flip.

He only realized he had zoned out when someone waved a hand in front of his face and he jumped, blinking rapidly to clear his mind.

“John, you with me man?”

He cleared his throat, “Yep, um whadda you want?”

Dorian frowned, placing two fingers on the detectives forehead and staring distantly at something John couldn’t see, pulses of blue electric light flashing across his temple. “You are running a fever of 38.4 degrees Celsius, 1.4 degrees above normal body temperature.”

John shifted uncomfortably under the DRNs gaze, schooling his features into neutrality.

Dorian wasn’t fooled. “I want you to be honest with me, now I know the MXs did a sweep but if you have anything to-”

“I’m clean alright!” John exploded, jumping to his feet “I make one mistake, _one_ and everyone is suddenly on my case!” He swayed somewhat where he stood, but his glare was unflinching. Dorian considered steadying him with a hand, but decided against it knowing he felt undignified as he was, plus the chances of him actually falling over were slim. John was stubborn like that.

For a few awkward seconds, Dorian looked him straight in the eyes with that searching expression and John almost missed it but the android nodded ever so gently. “I believe you. It’s okay.” He made a mental note to keep checking up on his health, but a quick scan showed there were no particle traces on his breath so it was most likely side effects. All they could do was just ride it out.

A knock on the door made them jump, and an MX stuck his head around the main door. “I am sorry to intrude, but I would like to remind you and your partner that the car will be here in four minutes thirty seven seconds.” Then left quickly as he appeared.

John rolled his eyes, “How come an MX has more manners than you do” but Dorian ignored his comment, turning with a grin. “Come on, this will be fun!” John groaned internally at the optimism radiating off the DRN.

“We better be getting ready to leave”

* * *

~***~

* * *

A sleek black car pulled up outside and John was made to pack quickly. He picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder… but at the last moment he hesitated at the door, hand hovering hesitantly over the door knob.

“John come on, we gotta go!” Dorian shouted from the car, poking his head out the window.

“Screw this” he muttered under his breath, striding back into the house and grabbing the small com from his table. He tucked it into his bag, pushing it to the bottom just to be safe before sliding the door shut, locking it behind him and climbing into the car with only minimal grumbling.

The vehicle pulled away smoothly, turning at the junction and integrating itself into highway traffic. One of the generic MXs was sat in the driver’s seat, back straight as a ram rod and eyes staring dead ahead at the road, whilst Dorian and John were sat in the back with their bags squashed between them and Dorian’s portable charger in the boot. The detective drummed his fingers on the leather chair and watched the city fly past through the window; he couldn’t shake the feeling that the further and further away they went from The City, the precinct, _the case_ , the more detached and confused he felt, powerless, _vulnerable_. And John Kennex did not like that feeling one bit.

“So where exactly is it we are going?” he asked, trying to take his mind off it.

Dorian’s face flashed up again. “Outside the city there is a small forestation area with a lake a cabin. I think that is where Maldonado intends us to stay.”

“Staking out in a log cabin huh?” John tilted his head back, feeling the tiniest bit more at rest. “Could be worse.”

He cast his mind to the last time he went camping twenty years ago before the wall was put up. He had been with his dad, only a kid at the time, wide eyed and excited to be away from the droning thrum of city life. It was so calm, so still, and at first he had found the quiet strange. They had visited in the winter, so not much wildlife; just a cold wind blowing the snow into flurries and the groaning of trees creaking under the weight of the sky. Unlike the industrial areas, it was vast and cloudless and there was room to breathe deeply. Of course with the temperature in the minuses the lake had frozen over, which his dad thought was the best opportunity for ice fishing. Everything was a bit of a blur after that; freezing water reaching into his eyes and ears, down his throat and stabbing painfully in his lungs, knocking out the air and leaving him gasping. He didn’t remember much apart from strong arms pulling him up and out, hugging him tight as he shivered back in the cabin by the warm of a fire, and feeling the flames thaw out his bones.

The car began to slow as the smooth tarmac phased into a dirt track. A few minutes later the outline of stacked buildings and city lights gave way to treetops and clear sky stretching out into the distance. Beside him Dorian was fidgeting, turning in his seat and staring through the tinted windows in awe.

“John, John look”

He smiled, amused as Dorian pushed his face up against the glass-but it quickly morphed into annoyance as the car took a sharp turn and the DRN landed in his lap.

John glared down at him which only made Dorian laugh harder, and he reached up to pinch his cheek but Kennex swatted the hand away. “I think Rudy wired you wrong or something” he grumbled, shoving Dorian back into his own seat.

He meant to turn back to the window but after a few minutes, Dorian was still staring at him with that shit eating grin.

“What” He demanded.

“Nothing” Dorian replied, finally turning away to look straight ahead. “You look cute when you’re grumpy”.

“Could I please passengers to keep flirtations to private conversation” The MX in the driver’s seat droned.

John rolled his eyes so hard he think he saw the back of his skull, but couldn’t stop the heat rising to his neck and he swallowed thickly, hoping the blush didn’t reach his cheeks. If Dorian noticed he didn’t say anything, but John intentionally avoided making eye contact all the same.

When the MX spoke ten minutes later breaking the silence, it made him jump in his seat.

“You have arrived at your destination. Please exit the vehicle”

* * *

~***~

* * *

A hundred miles north, back in the City the precinct hummed with activity. But past the hustle and bustle of business four people gathered in the Captains office talking urgently among themselves.

“Paul, I want you to track Milburn’s activity before he died; who he came in contact with, where he has been, his history-anything you can dig up on him.”

The detective nodded and walking swiftly out through the glass doors already tapping away at the tablet and loading up data files with his MX closely behind him. Then Maldonado turned to Stahl, “Valerie I need you monitoring the hideout for activity, but in the meantime please deliver the drug for analysing then log it in the evidence room.”

She licked her lips, adding a little quieter, “I would also appreciate it if you could run a security scan again. Somehow he knew we were coming and I don’t think he could have gotten that information on his own.” Unconsciously she glanced around her at the people milling about and Stahl caught her nervous glance.

“You think we’ve got a mole?”

She put her hands on her hips, “I’m not suggesting anything, but it is entirely possible; it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“You got it”.

She went to leave but Maldonado called her back, “Oh and Valeria… keep this between you and me okay? No need to cause unnecessary panic”

“My lips are sealed” The young detective nodded, but she hesitated to leave, turning to face the captain once again. “Has… has John’s medical leave got anything to do with this case?”

Maldonado’s face tightened, “I’m sorry but that information is-”

“-Classified, I know. Just tell me, is he okay?”

Seeing Stahl so open and concerned warmed something inside her and she sighed, rubbing her temples. “Yes… I hope so. Yes, he’ll be fine.” She nodded, and Valerie couldn’t help but feel she was reassuring herself more than anything.

Stahl gave a small smile, dipping her head in thanks and hurrying down the corridor to set about the day’s work. She rummaged in her pocket for her security card and swiped it against the elevator. She tapped her foot impatiently waiting for the silver tube like doors to open and tucked her card back into her pocket, pulling out the small evidence bag instead. On the way down she inspected it, running her finger over the smooth red pill trying to feel it through the plastic, shaking her head. _It’s funny how something so small could cause so much trouble_.  
  
But she didn’t have time to muse for long as the elevator dinged and she stepped out into data analysis, squinting at the bright lights. It was a wide room with blindingly white walls and various machinery whirring and buzzing, wires tangling and climbing up the walls like creepers. She blinked, letting her eyes adjust for a minute before she strode over to a certain dome shaped gadget with microscope slides and a large dial, and then with gloved hands, she pulled the pill from its casing. With the switch of a button, she placed it inside a glass tube and fed it into the mechanism and craned her neck to see the screen above her. Using the dial she fiddled with some of the settings until glowing text informed her that the analysis would be complete in ‘3 hours, 46 minutes and 7 seconds.’

With one thing checked off the ‘to do’ list, Stahl sighed, running a hand through her hair. She only noticed it if she stopped for a second to think, but something was tugging at the back of her mind, however whenever she tried to look directly at it, it disappeared from sight like trying to see into a blind spot, or remember the words on the tip of your tongue. She shrugged, swiping her card against the elevator doors again, figuring it would come to her in its own time. For now she just had to let it simmer.

* * *

~***~

* * *

3 hours, 46 minutes and 6 seconds later, the machine pinged and the small red pill slid out down a funnel to be collected by data storage.

Two minutes later, all across the precinct power shut down and a piercing scream rent the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long over due update. To anyone still interested-enjoy!


End file.
